


Pretty Things

by bergamots



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, obligatory valentines day fic, pure fluff, roy is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9713237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bergamots/pseuds/bergamots
Summary: “Sir,” she said by way of greeting, closing the door behind her carefully, her eyes never leaving the red chaos in front of her. “Why is my desk covered in…boxes?”“They are gifts, Lieutenant,” he corrected, pushing off the doorway and moving into the office proper, the grin never leaving his face. “Gifts for a very special member of our team.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know Arakawa said that there wasn’t an equivalent of Valentine’s Day in Amestris, but you can bet that won’t stop me from pretending there is. You know Mustang would be all over it.
> 
> Thanks to Camila (didsomeonesayroyai on tumblr) for giving me the inspiration for this fic!!!!! Would you believe Ana the Angst Queen (I didn’t choose the angst life, the angst life chose me) is gonna write pure royai fluff??? I certainly can’t lmao. 
> 
> Comments and feedback are always appreciated and encouraged! I hope you all spend Valentine’s with the people you love, platonic or otherwise.

It was ten past nine in the morning on Valentine’s Day and Riza Hawkeye was already exhausted and quite happy to call it quits and crawl back into bed. It wasn’t like she hated Valentine’s Day – indeed; she could not claim that her heart had been broken on the most ironic of days, or that she had been left waiting in a restaurant for a person that never showed.

It was just the… _overtness_ of the whole experience that left her weary. She wasn’t one for large declarations of affection – not many people really, when she thought about it – though she knew the districts were more conservative than the likes of Central. But still, who decided that you had to shout your love from the rooftops (in some cases, quite _literally_ – Hessel from accounts had reportedly climbed up the Edgar Glover building and had been yelling indistinctly through a  megaphone as she had walked through the compound) in order to ensure someone knew that they had an admirer?

It baffled her.

Nonetheless, Eastern City Command was abuzz today, with the secretaries flitting around like butterflies to their friends in archives, gushing about how so-and-so had been presented with a bouquet larger than her person, and Sophie from the Marlborough division had been proposed to with a ten-carat diamond that was probably worth more than her yearly salary.

It was all very well and good to celebrate love (Riza didn’t consider herself a completely heartless person, rumours aside), but why others had to _also_ participate was beyond her. _Other peoples’ opinions should not be integral to a lasting relationship_ , she thought grumpily. Perhaps in the early versions of the holiday the intentions had been good – but now it was simply the time of year where those in relationships would be embarrassingly unashamed in their shenanigans and make everybody who _wasn’t_ in one feel terrible about their lack of a partner.

Naturally, it stung a little for her too, but she wasn’t going to throw herself a pity-party because she couldn’t have what she wanted. There was no time to feel sorry for yourself when there was an office of men who would be complaining all _day_ about how unfair it was they had to work when their time would be better spent _wooing_.

It. Was. Ridiculous.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye! Good morning!”

Riza turned to see Sergeant Fuery walking towards her quickly; his arms already full of folders. “I suppose you heard about Hessel?” he asked, bending down to give Hayate an affectionate rub.

Riza snorted. “I don’t think anybody could have missed him. Did you hear about Private Mannors?”

Fuery grinned, keeping pace with her as they made their way to the office. “I got a blow-by-blow account of the whole thing. Would you care for to know the change in humidity before or _after_ she said yes?”

Riza laughed. “At least we’re not in Marlborough today,” she commented dryly. “Is everyone else here already?”

Fuery nodded, looking away for a moment. “I think so. A year without histrionics from Lieutenant Havoc would be appreciated, but I doubt we’ll have much luck regardless.”

Riza nodded. “Or the Colonel.”

The younger man cleared his throat suddenly, ducking his head a little. “Yes,” he managed, a strange quality creeping into his tone. “But the Colonel has always been a very reliable person.”

Riza looked at Fuery, her brow furrowed. “I suppose so, Sergeant,” she replied suspiciously, watching the man carefully.

Fuery smiled brightly. “At least today will be interesting!” he said, opening the door to their department quickly. He ducked inside, and Riza stopped, taking in the scene before her with growing dread.

The first thing she noticed when she stepped into the room was how _red_ it was – it was like a tomato had burst all over the office. There were balloons – the ones filled with helium dotted the roof of their department, red and white ribbons dripping down like ornamental stalactites. There were boxes upon boxes wrapped in ornate paper and bows. There was a teddy-bear on her chair. Paper hearts in every shade of pink and red were scattered around her desk. There were flowers too, she noticed, covering every inch of her desk that wasn’t already occupied. Roses, tulips, carnations – she even spied some spider lilies amongst there, a little morbidly amongst the other, more playful meanings.

Colonel Mustang waved at her from where he was leaning against his doorway, with the widest shit-eating grin she had ever seen on his face. “Ah, Lieutenant Hawkeye! I was just wondering where you had gotten to.”

“Sir,” she said by way of greeting, closing the door behind her carefully, her eyes never leaving the red chaos in front of her. “Why is my desk covered in…boxes?”

“They are gifts, Lieutenant,” he corrected, pushing off the doorway and moving into the office proper, the grin never leaving his face. “Gifts for a very special member of our team.”

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “They are _unnecessary_ , sir,” she replied, moving closer to her desk. The pungency of the flowers was apparent now – not entirely awful, but far more than what she was used to – she knew her perfume had notes of rose in it but this was on a whole other level.

She picked up the teddy bear sitting on her chair and examined it. It was a plush little thing, the brown paws sewn to a heart. “You’re very sweet, sir,” she said quietly, aware that the rest of the office was watching this exchange carefully – and she thought Hessel would be the big gossip today. Surely the man knew better than to be quite so… _obvious_ about it?

 “Wait, did you think that this was for you, Lieutenant?” The Colonel laughed. “I know you’re not fond of this holiday. Hayate however, doesn’t give a shit.” He was right – her dog was already sniffing at the flowers and boxes at the foot of her desk with interest. At least the gesture (ridiculous, unreasonable, _absurd_ gesture) wouldn’t be completely wasted.

“Sir?” she asked, confused. He just laughed harder, clutching at his sides. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Already the man wasn’t making sense.

She really should have called in sick today.

Riza tried a different tack with her superior officer, who was still giggling like a school girl. “He’s a dog, Colonel. Of course he wouldn’t care.”

Mustang shook his head, wiping at his eyes a little. “Correction, dear Lieutenant: he’s the most wonderful and beautiful dog in the history of dogs ever.”

She sighed. “That may be so, sir, but-”

“And he is a _loyal_ and integral part to our team – which is why he gets a Valentine’s gift and you don’t.”

She stared at the man, her mind struggling to keep up. “Wait – this is all for…Hayate?”

The Colonel nodded enthusiastically, trying his best not to burst out into laughter again. “He’s been such a loyal companion all these years – I couldn’t think of a better way to show how much I appreciate him!”

She glanced back to her desk, spying a familiar brand of confectionary.

“You know chocolate is poisonous to dogs, right?” she asked wryly.

Mustang threw a hand to his chest, gaping at her like she had mortally wounded him. “Lieutenant, I am _appalled_ you would think I would deliberately poison your dog. I asked the confectioner to make it for dogs in mind.”

“Then you must know tulips and lilies are extremely poisonous as well.”

The office erupted into laughter, and Riza smiled sweetly at the Colonel, who was looking thoroughly ashamed.

“It’s alright, sir,” she said kindly, patting him on the shoulder. “I know you tried. Hayate appreciates it – but I really need you to clean this up. I can hardly work here if I’m going to go into a flower-induced coma.”

“Yes, Lieutenant. Right away.”

* * *

By the time she got back home, it was already seven and the sun was just beginning to set. All in all, the day hadn’t been too awful, she considered as she got out a soup from her icebox and set a pot on her stovetop.

Warm arms snaked around her as she began to prepare some bread to go with the slowly-melting block of soup. “Hello,” she said quietly, unable to keep the smile off her face as she felt soft kisses along her neck.

“Hello,” Roy replied, his voice muffled by her skin. They stood in silence for a while as Riza continued dicing the garlic and parsley.

“I think Hayate really enjoys the bear,” Riza said, shifting away from his hold to check on the soup, which was slowly becoming liquid once more.

“Oh? That’s good.” He paused, watching her as she stirred the pot. “I’m sorry about the flowers,” he said, holding out his arms. She smiled warmly, walking into his embracing and kissing him soundly. “I know,” she answered, sliding her arms around his neck. “But spider lilies? That’s a bit morbid, even for you.”

Roy shrugged, his hands moving down to her hips and sliding under the edge of her shirt. “They’re pretty. Pretty things are often sad.”

“So what does that make me?” Riza asked, shifting closer to him. Roy grinned, catching her mouth once more.

“Beautiful things,” he murmured over her mouth, “are sublime.”


End file.
